


The Hex pt. 1

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Series: The Hex [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Female Sam, Gen, Plotty, Post Season 9, Temporarily Female Sam Winchester, Witch - Freeform, female!Sam, girl sam, girl!Sam, spell-casting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 9 (alternate skew), Sam and Dean are hunting a witch in Kansas who turns Sam female by accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hex pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> [EDIT 2016: sry guys I wrote this when I wasn't sure how to use the archive yet, so instead of reading chapter by chapter it's part of its own "series" :/ I apologize. It was the best I could do haha.]
> 
> This new series I'm working on takes place pretty much immediately post season 9. Not that I know what's going to happen or anything, I just picture the brothers drama-free and are hoping to get back into simple hunts.  
> I have a lot of plans for this so I hope you guys enjoy.  
> Wincest to come, obvs. ;)
> 
> haven't edited this at all so sorry if there's some errors. gonna go back afterwards but i have to go celebrate Easter now. ;P

They were hunting a witch. First one in years. Truth was they took this case because they wanted to, after everything, get back to good old run-of-the-mill predictable cases. They both craved the effortlessness of a case like this, each of them assuming their roles in their partnership—Sam digging through books and files on his laptop, Dean gearing up the impala with their guns and salt and whatever else they might need.

Neither of them would have ever expected what this case would lead to.

 

The witch they were hunting had been kidnapping people—two so far. Both around thirty, both male. They had managed to track her to a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

"Sam, you grab that room at the back," Dean had instructed.

Sam went in gun first. It was a small room, dark and dingy with a few hanging pipes and some broken glass scattered over the floor. He was about to turn around—clearly the witch wasn't in here—when he heard the door slam behind him. It resounded through the entire warehouse. He heard Dean's voice calling him from the other side moments later.

"Dean!" Sam tried to get the door open again but the handle was gone. Someone cackled behind him. He spun around and aimed his gun at her. She only laughed more.

She was short and young, fair-haired, but had sunken eyes and dry lips. She wore all black.

"Sam Winchester," she sighed. "What a pleasure."

With a flick of her wrist his gun was thrown from his hand.

"The perfect specimen," she said, smirking, eyeing him up and down. "Kaleb will be thrilled with me."

"What are you talking about?" Sam hesitated between picking his gun up and physically fighting her. He did neither. He listened. Dean was still calling to him from the other side of the door.

"You didn't think I'd be so careless as to actually let you two _find_ me, did you? I set this up."

Sam clenched his fists by his sides, watching her.

"When I heard the Winchesters were tailing me I let it work to my advantage."

Sam squinted. "Why did you take Alex and Michael?"

"Oh, those two sniveling idiots?" She sighed. "See, I'm a business woman. Or, a business-woman-in-training. My boss wants bodies for their strength and youth so he can live forever—or at least until next century—and my job is to supply him." She tossed her hair proudly.

"Your boss... Kaleb?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "But I'm still kinda new at this. So my first spell went wrong and then my second one, well, went even _more_ wrong, and... Well, my boss isn't a happy camper. Especially with tomorrow night and all... But then I heard _you_ boys were coming and what better specimen than a _Winchester_ , right?" She smiled, excited. But then her eyes got all dark. "Let's see if I can do it right _this time._.."

"No! Dean!" Sam backed up against the door as the witch started to chant and extend her palm towards him.

_Sammy!_

A bright green light started to pulse from her palm, and Sam had to shield his eyes as it got brighter and filled the room. He felt his muscles starting to stretch and contract, actually felt his bones cracking and shifting in his body. He cried out in agony and fell to the floor, clutching his stomach that felt like it was imploding.

 _Sammy!_ Dean called to him from just outside of the room, just out of reach, and banged on the door over and over.

He bent over, grasping at his pulsing body and crying out in pain until the spell—whatever it was—reached his lungs too and he couldn't scream anymore. He clawed at the ground, his insides scrambling and shifting, hearing them making popping noises even over the witch's loud chanting.

And then she stopped. It all stopped. And he was left heaving on the ground, his whole body humming and twitching with the aftershocks of the spell. He felt lighter somehow.

He heard the witch out of breath above him.

"Damnit!" She exclaimed.

He opened his eyes and tried to steady himself on the ground, hands grasping at the gritty cement. They looked smaller, his fingers leaner.

"What did you—" he started to say, but the voice that came out wasn't his own. His hands shot to his neck and it felt thin and smooth. "What the hell did you do to me?" His voice was higher and softer. He stood up on shaking legs, his now-loose pants nearly dropping off his hips. He held them up and lunged for the witch. He could have sworn she was a lot shorter before.

She held back an uncontrollable laughter even as his hands closed around her throat.

"Well, I must say," she shook with trying to contain a fit of giggles. "It really isn't a bad look on you, _Samantha._ "

He slammed her against the far back wall. "Change me back. Now!" Man he had _really_ meant for that to sound more forceful.

"Sorry, no returns no exchanges. The spell's done."

He grit his teeth, pushing on her shoulder with one hand, the other still at her neck.

"Although... If Kaleb finds out I made _another_ mistake... especially on a _Winchester..._ I'll be dead _and_ out of a job. So... Let's just keep this between us _girls,_ huh?"

He grunted but it sounded more like a whine, slamming her into the wall again. She barely even flinched.

"If you even _think_ about telling another soul about this.... well... Let's just say, I won't mind using your _brother_ as my next test subject. Sound like a deal, princess?"

"Damn it, change me back, you bitch!"

She laughed again. And then she started to chant another spell.

"No!"

They were suddenly in the middle of town, on the sidewalk in front of some stores.

"Ah, crap," the witch huffed. She pushed Sam off of her and began chanting again. Right when Sam went to grab her again she vanished.

"No!!!" He spun around, but she was nowhere in sight. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the store's windows and walked up to it, squinting. From what he could see, he looked a lot smaller... And his hair was a little longer...

He looked down at himself and felt his chest. Puffier than usual under his shirt. His hands went lower, frantically scrambling over new and unfamiliar areas of his body, until he reached his groin. Nothing. _Nothing there_.

A man walked by and made a face at him.

He felt like he was about to throw up. None of this was his. He was a woman. He had _breasts._

He ducked into the first store in sight because people had begun to stare.

"Can I help you, miss?" The clerk asked kindly. "Oh my, those clothes are _far_ too large for you. Let me help you out."

 

xxx

 

Sam had disappeared five hours, twenty-three minutes and seven seconds ago. Back at the warehouse, Dean had heard a lot of screaming and some chanting and then saw a bright green light leaking out from under the heavy metal door. He had called out to his brother countless times until he picked up a steel bar that he found on the ground and desperately tried to pry to door open.

By the time he got it open, the screaming and chanting had ceased, and there was nobody in the room. Sammy had disappeared.

Since the disappearance, Dean had called everybody he knew to try and help with the search. Sam wasn't even answering his phone. He had no leads and it was almost sun down and panic and desperation were starting to kick in.

He parked the impala out in front of the bunker's entrance and dialed Crowley. Yeah. He was desperate.

"Squirrel, that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen. I need your help." He sat in the impala and listened to the shake in his own voice.

" _You_ need _my_ help. Shocker. What have you two idiots gotten yourselves into this time? Smoking Abaddon and returning the rightful King of Hell to his throne not enough fun for you?"

Dean sighed, biting his tongue. "We were on a hunt. Some witch bitch took Sam and ditched. I don't even know where to—"

Crowley sighed on the other line. "You need my help and genius expertise to track this foul-breathed broom-rider. That it?"

Dean got out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it. "Look, trust me. You're the last person on my call-for-help list. But I—"

"Do you want my help or don't you?"

Dean rubbed between his eyes, watching the sun sink down into the trees far off in the distance. "Yeah. I do."

Crowley was silent for a few moments on the other line and Dean waited. Then he finally spoke up. "Well, I suppose I do owe you two a small favor. Even though I'm fairly certain Moose can manage something like this on his own, especially after everything..."

"I appreciate it," Dean tried not to sound too sarcastic. He would need as much help finding Sam as he could.

He tapped the hang up button on his phone and stuffed it in his back pocket. He figured Crowley would show up shortly and they'd go over the case in depth in person.

When he turned around to go into the underground bunker, he noticed a girl there, leaning against the railing. She didn't say anything.

Dean looked around, then back at her. She had brown hair that was pulled back in a messy ponytail and was wearing a white tank top, a fitted beige coat and a pair of jeans that went all the way down her long legs to where she was wearing some brown leather ankle boots.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked because she was just staring. Dean stepped around the impala and the girl awkwardly rubbed her hands together.

"I hope so." That was all she said.

Dean shook his head. "Who are you?" At the same time, the closer Dean stepped, the more familiar the girl looked. She was staring back at him intently behind wide hazels.

She looked away then, putting a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Um... Jamie. My name's Jamie."

"Okay, Jamie. What do you want?"

She looked back up and curled her lips in. Then she put her hands in her pockets and straightened a little. "I'm a hunter. I heard you and your brother were tracking down a witch in the area. I'd like to help."

Dean searched her face skeptically. She had various beauty marks; two over her cheek and chin, one by her lip. Her deep eyes watched him back. _Familiar..._

"Are we related?" Dean asked out of the blue. She stiffened a little. "I mean, are you a Campbell or a Winchester or something? It's just... You look..."

She abruptly cut him off. "No. I don't—no. Pretty sure we're not related." She wiped her palms on the back of her jeans. "I, uh... My dad was a friend of Bobby Singer's."

Dean shrugged. "Alright, well, look, _Jamie._ The bitch took my brother. Now I don't know you or what your motives are but I'll take all the help I can get. And any hunter who knew Bobby's alright in my book."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, shuffling on her feet. "But if we're gonna find this witch, it's not gonna be easy. We have to get started." She perked up and went down the steps on the side, to the bunker door.

"Woah, woah, hey. Easy there, sunshine." Dean followed her and she just turned, looking at him like he was the weird one. "First thing's first, how'd you even know about—how'd you know where to find me?"

Her mouth twitched at the corners and she grabbed the handle of the heavy door. "I have my connections." She actually swung the door open and walked in like she'd been there a thousand times. Dean was a little weirded out—okay, a lot weirded out—but he couldn't help but make an impressed face. Maybe the girl _had_ been here before. Or at least known about the bunker. She said she had her connections, so maybe she'd heard about the Men of Letters too. And something about her was just so familiar Dean found it impossible to distrust her knowing eyes.

 

Dean watched Jamie sift frantically through the shelves once they were inside.

"What are you looking for?" He asked her, his eyes narrowing on her concentrated face.

"Anything. Everything. This witch is new at what she does. That means she must've had to learn it from somewhere, and I doubt there's a book on witches this archive is missing."

She had kind of a deep voice for a girl, and it kept varying in pitch, like she wasn't sure which to stay in. She was also pretty tall and awkward, her shoulders square and lean. Maybe she was an athlete. But she had a pretty face, from what Dean had seen of her so far. Big round eyes and a strong jaw. 

"How did you figure she's a new witch?"

Jamie pulled several books off the shelves, balancing them in her hands. Dean just watched her, his brows furrowing.

"Because." She set the books on one of the tables and pulled out a chair, sitting down in it. "She's leaving a sloppy trail, being really inconsistent with her spells." She trailed off, opening one of the books and hovering over it.

"How's that?" Dean stood in front of her, looking down.

She didn't answer. But a few moments later she looked up and made a face. "Care to help?" She pushed one of the books out for him.

"Sure are bossy..." Dean skeptically sat down, opening it up, unsure of what he was looking for exactly. But he needed to find Sam, and this girl seemed to know what she was doing.

They spent the night sifting through page after page and chapter after chapter on witches and spells. Dean kind of hoped Crowley would get here soon with a lead because they were getting nowhere.

Jamie reached for Sam's laptop suddenly and Dean looked up. "Hey, hey."

Her eyes widened. Then she slid it in slowly. "Mind if I use this?"

She didn't seem like she was going to take no for an answer even if he refused. Sam kept everything on there. You know, files and stuff. Whatever he did. But Dean knew it was private and Sam would probably throw a bitch fit if he knew some smart-ass chick had her paws all over it. He even got all peevish when Dean used it. But if it was to help save him...

"Whatever."

She flipped it open and typed something briefly, then Dean saw her look up over it at him. Dean watched her eyes. She looked away and started tapping and swiping over the touch pad.

 

"Aha! I knew it," she said after around ten minutes.

"What is it? What've you got?" Dean shut the book he was looking in because he was starting to see double of each word.

"I pinned down all of the areas the witch has been spotted on _this_ map." She turned the laptop around to face Dean. Her finger circled over the screen. "They all center around this town: Burrowsville, Kansas."

Dean looked from her obviously enthused face to the little pins on the map.

"The witch mentioned something about something going on tomorrow. _So,_ I ran a search for any events or festivities happening tomorrow in Burrowsville and one came up: the annual Red Heart Awards Gala. Everyone will be there. _Including_ one _Kaleb_ Marco." She sat back, satisfied, like Dean should know what half of that even meant. The way she talked... Certain patterns in her speech... were like...

Then Dean pulled back, confused. "What do you mean, the witch _mentioned?_ You spoke to her?"

She froze, looked at the screen again. "Uh, no... My friend told me, before he got taken, too. Like your brother."

Dean narrowed his eyes on her. She looked everywhere but at him.

"Whatever. Who's Kaleb Marco?"

"The witch's boss. The one who's training her."

Dean sat back in the chair, folding his arms. This girl just knew way too much, it wasn't adding up. "Okay, so tell me something. You could have figured all of this out on your own. Why did you come to me?"

She shut the laptop and stood, looking down at him. "I know where we have go."

Dean pushed out his chair and watched her, baffled. She sure ignored him a lot.

"Get a suit ready. We're going to the Gala."

 

xxx

 

Sam stood in his bedroom, in front of the floor-length mirror that opened up on the inside of his closet door. He swallowed, taking in his new feminine features, running his hands down his lean body. He shrugged out of the too-tight jeans the store clerk in town had shoved in his arms, letting them fall to the floor. The clerk, when he was changing in the changing room, had also tossed a few articles from their lingerie section over the door for him. One of the bra-and-panty sets was leopard print and the other was plain black. Sam had scoffed and slipped on the black set under his clothes in too much of a freaked-out frenzy to take in the fact that his _dick was gone_.

"Honey, you are _not_ setting any trends with those boxers."

 

Now, listening to the hum of the bunker's lights overhead, Sam ran his fingers over the cotton of his underwear, feeling the tips of his fingers brush over the sensitive area of his pubic bone where it felt uncomfortably barren. He examined his face for the first time, really looking, leaning in close to the mirror and pressing his fingers into his cheeks. It was so strange. But certain features—his eyes, for example—were the same, along with the placement of his beauty marks. He still looked familiar, but it was like everything on him was just softer, more delicate. Weird.

"Hey," Dean boomed from the doorway. "Oh—Sorry." He turned around awkwardly, leaning against the doorframe. "I just—I said you could stay in the _guest room_. This isn't the guest room."

Sam rolled his eyes. So he couldn't even stay in his own room. This was starting to get really annoying. But he remembered what the witch said with palpable clarity if he told another soul about what happened. _I won't mind using your brother as my next test subject._

He really didn't need to risk it. It just wasn't worth it. Plus, Dean might totally freak out if he found out it was him. Very likely.

He gathered his jeans and boots and pushed past Dean, heading toward the end of the hall to the guest room.

"It's—It's at the end of the...hall..." He heard Dean trailing off as he turned and shut the door.

 

He lay on the bed, feeling the fabric of the sheets brush against his hairless legs and it felt odd. He felt bare. Like, everywhere. But at least he was still in shape.

He attempted to tear off the uncomfortable bra that was digging into his ribs and itching his back, but his arms got all stuck in the tank top and he got so frustrated he just tore everything off. But then he felt even _more_ bare so he put the tank top back on. He hadn't actually checked out his "girl parts" yet. It freaked him out too much. He didn't even want to. Which was weird. Because any normal guy would be fondling himself all over. He knew Dean probably would.

He huffed as he collapsed down on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

All he could think was, they better find this bitch and they better find her soon.


End file.
